Idle Thoughts of a Basket Case
by MissImagineThat
Summary: Sa5m's perspective on Bandlsam, life, boys, cheerleaders, and Twizzlers.
1. Prologue

**Idle Thoughts of a Basket Case**

Summary: _Sa5m is going through the world of high school one day at a time. She is a thoughtful teenager, but where do all of those thoughts go? Who do you tell your deepest secrets to, when the whole world thinks you're a pariah…_

This is starting out Pre-Will so as to not get you confused. When he comes into the story, you'll know.

Prologue

Who am I? Do I even know? Basic questions and facts could be answered, but do I really know… who I am?

* * *

My name is Sa5m.

Yes... the five is silent.

Simple facts about me? I live in Lodi, New Jersey, and it is the saddest excuse for a town I've ever seen. My favorite color is black. My mother is a lawyer and overly attentive. My father was an asshole who left us on our own when I was just ten. And I like, no love, twizzlers.

I started with my new therapist, Dr. McCain, today after my mother realized I was getting nowhere with my last therapist. This would be the fifth therapist she would try on me. She's convinced I have some mentally depressed illness that needs to be treated by a professional. I think she's hoping that fifth times the charm.

If I was being honest with myself, I actually enjoyed this new therapist. ... Actually, enjoyed is a bit too strong feeling of a word. I would reword that as slightly tolerable.

I met with her in your typical psychiatrist's office. The first time I did this, I was nervous as shit. Now, it's just something to pass the time by. As I came in and sat down on one of the couches, she asked me if I wanted anything to drink to make me more comfortable in her presence I guess. I didn't ask for anything so we just started on the session. She asked me main questions, ones that did not run too deep, and talked to me about herself. This was a surprise because I've never really heard a psychiatrist talk about themselves. They usually talk about you like they know everything about your life.

She was a little bit of fresh air, and I relaxed around her. Then she asked me if there was anything I would tell her. I knew that psychiatrists don't spew your secrets to anyone, even if I was a bit skeptical at first... So I told her I felt like no one listens or tries to understand me. She nodded and took on a thoughtful look. She then turned to me told me to write down my thoughts; put it in a what she called a memory box. This memory box did not have to be fancy. She said that it could even be a shoe box for all she cared. So I took an old shoe box from my mother that she was going to throw out. It was a larger type of shoe box so I guessed that it cased a pair of boots.

She told me to write down my thoughts. Any thoughts. I was to bring the box in with these thoughts every week that I saw her. It was a way for her to get to know me without me having to talk. I didn't like talking so this idea was good with me.

But where would I start?


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: **Well there were no responses to this yet, but that does not discourage me! Keep. Moving. Forward!

_Summary: Sa5m is going through the world of high school one day at a time. She is a thoughtful teenager, but where do all of those thoughts go? Who do you tell your deepest secrets to, when the whole world thinks you're a pariah…_

* * *

**Chapter One**

_I feel like the days are bleeding together, and one day I'm going to spontaneously combust._

...

It's been winter break for two weeks. Two weeks of pure quiet and bliss. No loud and rowdy classmates or stupid people littering the halls. I've had the entire house to myself since my mother decided to get some extra money by working holidays. This meant I could lounge around the house all I wanted without my mom reprimanding me. Another plus side is that Dr. McCain, my therapist, didn't work holidays. It was the vacation I've been asking for all year. Now... reality has come crashing down on me, and the dawning of school is approaching.

It was another Monday (and many more) to dread.

Wake up.

Get out of bed.

Go to the bathroom… remember to flush this time.

This routine will quickly wear on my nerves once it becomes the norm again. Not that I'm looking for serious excitement... I'm just looking for something a bit different than usual.

I head to the kitchen after I get done with my mundane Monday routine. There's a note from my mother on the table counter.

_Sam,_

_I know today is not going be  
your favorite day so I bought you  
a little treat to bring with you on  
your day back to school.  
Maybe it will cheer you up. You  
never know, something exciting  
might happen. I also need to talk  
to you tonight so don't be surprised.  
Have a nice day, sweetheart._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I look down at the table top again to find a packet of ®Twizzlers and a can of ®Coca-Cola. A rare smile makes its way to my face as I get my backpack to put my "lunch" in. I usually don't eat lunch (I read most of the time), so now it's nice to have something to look forward to. I'll have to remember to thank my mom later once she gets home from work.

There is still fifteen minutes till the bus comes so I go to the cabinet to get a bowl. A box of cereal is sitting on the counter top so I just pour whatever is in it into my bowl along with some milk. As I'm crunching on some calorie-inducing sugar, I think about my latest session with Dr. McCain.

The memory box idea has been a really nice idea since she brought it up that first session. I've been putting pieces of paper with random little thoughts into the box and it's been accumulating. I'm actually quite proud of myself that I'm doing what I've been told to do in the first place.

She's also been talking to me about letting my outlet out somewhere else. I was to take up a little hobby. She asked me if there was anything I liked to do like singing or playing a sport. I have absolutely no athletic bone in my body so that option was out. Singing was something I never wanted to think about again. In fact, music in general I wanted to shy away from ever since what happened. Another story for another time.

She kept listing things to see if I was interested in anything. Swimming? _No._ Knitting? _Hell no._ Mountain climbing? _What the hell?_ Bird watching?_ Where the fuck does she make up these things? _Reading? ... I could deal with that.

English was my favorite subject in school, and I loved to read the assigned books the teacher gives even if my classmates would probably disagree with anything school related. Dr. McCain smiled at me and excused herself to go get something. She came back with a few books in her hands.

_The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky_

_Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen  
_

_O Pioneers! by Willa Cather  
_

_Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides  
_

I took the four books in my hands and tentatively smiled at her.

...

I heard the bus coming up and grabbed a book to put into my bag.

* * *

Van Buren High School. The center of hell.

My morning classes bored me to tears as usual. I was tempted to start eating my snack in some of my classes, but dismissed the idea because I really did not want it to get taken away. I slept with my head down in math class and shot out of my seat after the bell rang signaling lunch.

Lunch was always boring because I didn't really have any friends to sit with. I didn't really _have friends_ in general.

I walked into the large lunchroom and sat down at a less crowded table. Some freshmen were off to side goofing off so I just ignored them. I took out my Twizzlers and cracked open my coke. Taking out one Twizzler, I bit on each end and put the twizzler inside of the coke can. Some kid to the side of me looked at me strangely and got up to sit at another table. Figures.

Sipping on my drink, I took out my book, _O Pioneers!_ I've been reading it throughout all of my classes. I actually liked it. I mean... it talks a lot about feminism, and if I was being honest with myself, I was getting really drawn in by a lot of what is going on in the book.

A head of curly brown hair caught my eye, and I saw some new guy sitting next to the group of freshman who immediately got up after he sat down. I felt bad for the guy then because I knew how he felt. I looked back to my book until I felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked to the guy's direction to find him staring at me. He quickly looked down at the table and I felt a side of my moth quirk up.

"Happy New Year, Van Buren! What's up?"

I rolled my eyes. Not another one.

These surprise "concerts" during lunch are really a nuisance. They let them put on these shows to advertise _Bandslam_. Now, I'm not opposed to _Bandslam_, but when it interrupts my daily activity that's when I start to get annoyed. It was sort of a battle of the bands. Whoever won gets a record deal with some fancy pants record company. Usually the bands who won would become one hit song wonders that would disappear after a year.

The entire cafeteria cheered and I struggled again not to huff in annoyance.

"I just have one question for you. What's gonna happen 3,600 hours from now?"

Seriously who _was _this guy?

"BANDSLAM!"

Ugh.

"And who's gonna bring home the gold?"

"GLORY DOGS!"

"Give it up for Ben Wheatly and the Glory Dogs!"

Okay. Now I have just one question. What kind of dumb ass name is Glory Dogs? Sounds like some tragic name for a school mascot.

The curtains opened up and the faces of the Gory Dogs appear. I swear. Nuremberg rally from MTV is happening right now.

"All right," Ben Wheatly, leading front-man of Ben Wheatly and the Glory Dogs, announces, "As we all know, last year at Bandslam, the Glory Dogs tied for second with the Burning Hotels. Well, that's not happening this year. You know why?"

Some stupid kid in the cafeteria reiterated with, "Why?"

"Cause there's some new dogs in the pound."

Oh Lord. You have got to be kidding me. There's new dogs in the pound? Good God. Where does he come up with these things.

"First up, all the way from Montclair, living with his dad, who he hates, just to play with the Dogs: Dylan Dyer!"

The guy on second guitar then proceeds to show off by playing with a string with his guitar.

"Exactly how big is this whole Bandslam thing around here?"

Huh?

The new kid is talking to me. I know this because everyone else is paying attention to the stage but me. I'm too afraid to look up from my book. I try to think of some comparison to give off how big and important Bandslam is to these bimbos and jerk-wads around here.

"Texas-high-school football big," I say. "You're new." Pointing out the obvious here, Sa5m? Geez.

"Yeah."

This guy looked like he needed a friend for a bit so I ask to see his class schedule. It won't be long till one of the sharks here tell him what kind of person I am. Then, he will proceed to pretend I don't exist. So now I will just give him a little boost so as to not let him feel so alone. He scooches over to where I sit and hands me his class schedule into my open hand. I quickly scan it, and hand it back to him.

"We have human studies together." It was the dullest class that I had so it would be interesting because the only open seat in that class was next to me.

"What's your name?" I ask him.

"Will Burton. What's yours?"

Like Tim Burton? I wanted to ask, but that sounded really weird even in my head. I didn't really know how to answer his question without sounding stupid so I rifle through my bag looking for my notebook. I write down my name and put it on the table in front of him.

"The five... is silent."

He looks at the paper weirdly and I take up my stuff to leave.


	3. AN: Everything's Fine

A/N: Um… hi. It's MissImagineThat here.

Yeah… I know how annoying this chapter filling author's notes can be, but I promise all of that's in here is good news. So don't have an aneurysm.

An anonymous reviewer pointed out what Sa5m was reading in the cafeteria, so I'll be editing the book choices that Dr. McCain gave her. If you don't remember, Dr. McCain is her therapist. I'm only reminding you because I know I haven't written in a while.

I DO have valid excuses for not updating. I've been in California and Florida the whole time, and I was not able to write updates.

Trust me on this. A new chapter should come out in a couple days or so. Not too long I hope. Today, I'm going to be editing the story a little so don't kill me because I faked an update.

Um… yeah, thanks.


End file.
